Monday, June 18, 2018

Metaphor

I have an imaginary friend. No one can see them except me, and I can't really see them. They follow me around, just over my right shoulder; if I could turn fast enough I might catch a glimpse, if I wanted to.

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I don't look into mirrors at night, because I'm afraid of who will be looking back.

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Like a Klingon, I have an entire alternate vascular system, but instead of being filled with blood, it's filled with depression. It flows out of my heart and into my brain and all the way to the tips of my fingers and toes. Like my regular vascular system, most of the time I'm not really aware of it, but every now and then I bump it and a bruise forms, or it bleeds into my brain.

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